You Don't Have to Face it Alone
by veniceit
Summary: Continuation of "Imbroglio"-Chance and Ilsa talk on the stairs about his Jog.  Explores their complicated relationship-Now in France, Allyson Russo from the "Run" Episode tries to get between them..Finally added CHAPTER 9
1. Chapter 1

"You Don't Have to Face it Alone"

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Human Target including it's characters and intend to copyright infringement of any kind. Just having fun...

_**Continues immediately after Imbroglio ends when Ilsa and Chance are talking on the stairs after she realizes he's been following her home since the Hector Lopez shooting, pretending he was just going for a jog. He tells her she doesn't need to deal with this along even though she is strong and she insist he doesn't have to follow her home, she's fine. **_

_**Warning: Possible Imbroglio spoiler**_

Chance was grinning at her as she turned "Good, I don't like jogging anyway," Chance teased as he watched Ilsa saunter away towards the elevator. Chance waited, still slightly grinning. Still staring, he wondered, would she? She would not disappoint, Ilsa turned back towards Chance, smiled over her shoulder and continued on. His grin broke into a full smile. Looking back, it was a tell-tale sign of flirting and he knew it. She did too. Well aware what her looking back over her shoulder meant. She was wondering, no hoping, would he still be watching her walk away from him? Yes he was. She could tell by his reaction and that signature smile of his, that he was pleased she looked back. As she walked into the elevator and the doors closed this realization made her break into a full grin herself.

Chance watched her as she continued toward the elevator, once satisfied she was going he turned to walk up the stairs that lead to his personal space. The moment they shared on the stairs was deep for him. It had been a long time since he allowed himself to share those kind of thoughts and emotions with a woman. That was a lot for him. He wasn't big on words. But she needed to hear them. And to his surprised he found the words came easier then he had expected.

He was exhausted now, it had been a long day. He just wanted to have a shower and try to get some rest. Rest being the operative word. He never really slept. Not deep sleeps anyway. His past and guilt robbed him of his allotment of genuine sleep. This was something he had come to accept and had trained his body to cope with. Any other human wouldn't be able to function let alone perform the way he did.

* * *

><p>As the elevator began to descend down to the requested floor, Ilsa let her body fall back again the elevator wall, deep in thought over the conversation she and Chance just shared. She was overwhelmed with feelings of turmoil. She felt anguish and guilt for her participation in the death of a human but anticipation and excitement from the intimate moment she had just shared with Chance. She was surprised but also touched by his openness with her. He was bang on. She was struggling with her own peril thoughts. At night when she was along, when it was dark, she battled through every possible, painful scenario.<p>

Chance had been right about wanting to shelter her, protect her from the distressing certainty of taking a life. This was something a person would want to avoid at all costs, even if it was in self-defence. He warned her of that, and he would know. This only endeared him to her even more. Now she had to live with it. He had done everything humanly possible to prevent this. She knew he felt guilty for what had happened, that he blamed himself. He felt he should have known Lopez would be at her apartment; how could he? He felt he should have gotten their faster; Not even possible for superman.

He said she didn't have to go through this alone. Had he meant it? She wasn't exactly scared, she knew Lopez was truly dead this time. She felt truly safe in Chance's care, but she was having a hard time coming to terms with taking a life.

The elevator came to a stop on the main level and the doors opened. She did not move. She remained leaning against the wall. Several minutes passed and she stood at a stale mate. She was having an internal struggle. She knew what she wanted to do but was having trouble executing her desire. She wanted to head right back upstairs, all the way upstairs to his room, to lean on him, take him up on his offer. It was no big deal right? Just friends talking, comforting each other with words, she reasoned. But her logical side was fighting with the yearning of something more.

What if he was just being kind? No, he meant it, after all he had been following her home every night since the incident. Would she look foolish? No, he could see and knew it would only be natural to reach out for someone in this situation.

Back and forth she went, talking herself in and out of what she craved. She had been denying for a long time now these feelings. Her attraction for him grew stronger everyday. How could it not? What normal woman would not be effected by such a man. From the first time she'd laid eyes on him she knew she was attracted to him.

Those piercing blue eye felt like they could stare right through you to your soul. And his manly chiselled features were enough to make any woman melt. But she had managed to hide, deny and suppress these feelings from herself and anyone else that may be observing, and very well she might add.

But now after being around him for a while it was getting harder. From time to time she'd catch herself observing him from a far while he went about his business. She found herself making up reason to come to her office just to see him.

It wasn't just his overwhelming male magnetism that was getting to her but it was his prodigious abilities. That knight in shining armour, race in and do something breathing takingly heroic quality that had made her knees weak and frankly astonished her to her bones. There was no man like him, anywhere!

What would win, heart or mind. Maybe she was thinking about it too much, just push the button, go back up. Don't think about it anymore.

Done, button pushed.

Before she had time to talk herself back out of it the elevator re-opened on the office floor. Too late to turn back she told herself as she gingerly stepped out of the elevator. She wanted to be very quiet, not to disturb him or let him know she was their in case she changed her mind. Her heart was pounding like a school girl at her prom. 'Get a grip on yourself', she demanded. 'It's not that big a deal'.

She looked around, it was dark, just a soft light came from Chance's room. There was no sound, complete silence. Could he be sleeping already? Should she just turn around and retreat back to where she came from, unnoticed and undetected?

She placed her coat and purse down on a chair by the stairs and walked towards the exact stairs she and Chance had just exchanged the most sensitive moment of their relationship.

* * *

><p>Upstairs, Chance felt frustrated, he had been so tired and had longed for rest, but now he felt wide awake. He would take that shower, a long hot shower hoping that'd trigger the sleep mode again.<p>

He removed his shirt, yet again stiff and soar, comes with the territory, all in a days work. He tossed it on the couch, waking up momentarily a sleeping Carmine. While unbuttoning his pants he walked toward the bathroom and half shut the door.

He removed the rest of his clothes and turned the shower on. This was going to feel good. Once the water reached the desired temperature he stepped in and let the hot water beat on his back.

It felt good, he stood their taking it in, just savouring the feeling of heats against his soar muscle. He reached for some shampoo, washed his hair and put his head under the the downpour. The soap rolled down his face, his neck, the crevasses and bulges of his muscles.

The shower was helping, he was feeling sleeping again. But as he remained still under the heat and steam of the shower his mind began to race again. His thoughts were on one thing, Ilsa. He didn't want to think about her. He had tried for months now to erase her image, her aura from his mind. When he was alone and it was quiet, this was almost an impossible obstacle. He usually had better control over these "women" things. He was always in the drivers seat, what was going on? When it came to woman, he had the upper hand, always had. It was on his terms.

But he felt this "upper hand" slipping through his fingers just was easily as the water pouring over him slipped through his fingers now. He reached for the soap and for a split moment his mind wondered to Ilsa being with him in the shower. He shook the image from his mind. But her smell came back to him, he'd been close to her enough times to smell her smell, the mixture of expensive perfume and her own natural scent.

When you save a woman as many times as he needed to save her you got pretty close to her flesh. In save mode it didn't effect him too much, but when he was alone the memory of the scent would flood to his brain and then the effect would take hold. He had know a lot of women in his life. Most were extremely brief encounters, all were beautiful. But Ilsa was having a profound effect on him. He hadn't felt these feelings since, well since Katherine.

He took a big sigh, ran his finger through his hair as the water pounded, could he pound her out of his head? Those long legs, that soft skin, the sultry hair, those intense eyes he had a hard time turning away from. He had felt the sparks when they had touched either by accident or in many of his rescues.

They often seemed both taken aback and would remove themselves from each other quickly and move on. It was getting increasingly harder for him to "move on" to stop touching, to let her walk away, like he did tonight.

Why hadn't he stopped her earlier on the stairs. When she got up he was about to grab her arm and pull her back. But as always, he stopped himself.

Tonight he shouldn't have, he should have just acted. She had looked back after all. He was pretty sure she would have stayed. For what exactly, that was to be determined. He soaped his body up and leaned his hands against the walls of the showers and let the water rinse his body.

He could have stayed their all night but he forced himself to reach and turn the water off. Grabbing for a towel he dried his face, stepped out. He wiped the steam from the mirror and while looking in it ran the towel over his head.

He reached for a pair of worn black sweet pants and threw them on.

* * *

><p>Ilsa didn't know if she should call his name. If he was sleeping she would feel awful for waking him, maybe she should just tip toe up stairs and see if he's sleeping, if he is she'd just leave, she reasoned.<p>

As she reached the top of the stairs she began to realize she was very much hoping he wasn't sleeping.

Once at the top she turned toward his room. He wasn't there. It was completely dark except for a dim light on at a desk, but she could definitely tell he was not asleep on the couch where he so often just allowed himself to crash. She never knew this for certain but from the few times they've had meetings up there with Winston it appeared that was his spot.

Her initial reaction was confusion, where was he, but then she noticed the contrast of light to dark peeking under the partially closed bathroom door. "He's in there," she told herself, almost panicking she became uncertain and was about to turn to leave when the bathroom opened.

She turned to see a half dressed, wet and steamy Chance emerge from the bathroom. At first she couldn't move. He didn't notice her right away.

But within a split second he had. He was rubbing the towel still on his head when he looked over and saw her. It was too late, she couldn't leave now, she was spotted. His hand lowered slowly from drying his hair as he stared at her. There was just silence and they stood a few meters apart, eyes locked.

Ilsa, was trying her hardest to keep her eyes on his eyes and not let them following down to his uncovered body. They had been in close working quarters now for almost a year and had yet to see him with no shirt.

Oh she had imagined it several times. When he wore his t-shirts it didn't leave much to the imagination. They would cling to his muscles and reveal an amazing body, it was such a tease that created a longing for the real thing.

And now here it was, wet and clean, right in front of her and she couldn't allow her eyes to give her away, to linger to where she longed to look.

He was the first to break the stare. Walking behind the couch working his way towards her, eliminating the objects separating them. This was her chance to look undetected, she allowed her eyes to finally take in his wet body.

It was even better then she had pictured. This was a strong man. Of course she knew this, he had to be considering the ease of his protection.

As he walked the muscles contracted exposing extreme detail in every profound muscle. His pants rested low on his hips revealing the indents in lower hip muscles. Even as he tossed his towel as he rounded the couch towards her, she was unable to pull herself back to his face.

He was getting closer. He was grinning now, she could tell this even though she wasn't looking at his face. He was use to this, he'd seen this reaction before. He looked good and he knew it, not in a conceited way but in a confident yet bashful way. She breathed out heavily, blinked her eyes a few times, was this real? Was it even fair for a man to be this perfect?


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target, my reference to the characters are all in fun. _

**Chapter two - You don't have to face it alone!**

As he walked around the couch he was finding himself surprised but pleased she was standing there. He had been right, she would have stayed had he of perused it on the stairs.

She looked beautiful, her extraordinary figure amplified in the dim light. She was nervous, he could tell, she was second guessing herself for coming back. He needed to put her at ease, stop her from leaving. He began to grin his trade mark grin. She likes what she sees, he thought, it was obvious. He was comfortable in his skin. No need to put his shirt on.

She was wearing a black tank under a tight black sweat that hugged her body and accentuate her feminine curves. He could see her cleavage and her skin was sparkling as her chest heaved as she breathed nervously. He could almost feel his fingers run over her delicate bones on her neck, and then...down...…..well, he would played it cool for now, not giving away any desire. His peripheral vision was superb. He could take her all in, enjoy ever inch of her while not adverting his eyes from her face, she was none the wiser.

She managed to regain control, slightly anyway, stumbling on her words, "um, I, um," she raised her hand to her hair and nervously played with it, then lowered it and smooth out her skirt as if it was wrinkled. "I was, I mean I went down the elevator," she nervously stammered. She was still staring at this body. Her hand raised back up to her hair, try as she may she just could not will her eyes back to his face.

He saved her from herself this time, "Ilsa, I meant what I said." He moved closer yet. She could now smell the fresh soap on his body. He folded his arms in front of him accentuating even more the muscles in his strong, powerful arms. "I'm here if you need to talk this through, there is no better ear than mine, who else is going to understand the impact of taking a life?" He tilted his head bashfully and raised his eyebrows the way he so often did, trying to ease her apprehension.

Who could say no to that, she moaned to herself. "Yes of course," she said, finally meeting his eyes. He squinted a little, trying to get a read on her, "Um, I was all the way down the elevator…" she repeated herself, gesturing toward the downstairs and then grasped her hands together sheepishly, "…..and realized I need to talk about this. I thought I could bury this deep inside."

She now felt herself getting emotional and put her hand to her mouth. "But I'm fooling myself." She began to shake her head and look around for an escape.

Chance sensing her intent to flee jumped forward, gently pulling her arm towards him, bringing her attention back to him. His touch and glaze immediately halted her frantic need to escape. She stopped in her tracks and met his gaze. His grib on her arm was always strong, but amazingly gentle. They both stared silently and intensely into each other eyes. Why couldn't she read him, she mused, what a mysterious man he was. Damn it, that added to his irresistible intrigue.

He let go of her arm. Why did he keep doing that, he asked himself, let her go?

They both felt the intense electricity surrounding them. She ran her hand down his bare arm, following it with her eyes, taking in every detail of it, "I really should go," she managed to say pulling her hand away and holding it as if she touched something hot, looking unsure she added, "it's getting late. You need your sleep, we can talk another time" she slowly turned to go.

For the second time tonight the strong impulse for sleep had escaped him. He didn't want her to leave but he was also not the type of man to force the issue. He would never pressure her for anything she wasn't ready for, even if it was just talking. But he had to examine himself, was he really going to just let her walk like he did on the steps earlier?

She lingered, she wanted him to stop her. He studied her face, she looked so innocent and vulnerable but sexy in the soft light. "I'm not tired," was all he managed to say. But his eye were beckoning.

She stopped and turned back. "That is a lie," she met his gaze.

"Ok, I meant...I don't _want_ to sleep." That was the truth. Yes he was tired but sleep was not going to happen now even if she did leave.

She smiled but said nothing, was her body giving away what she was feeling inside, or was she managing to conceal it?

She had never known a man like Chance. How could an ex-assassin be such a master at perfect chivalry? Of course, silly question, this was Christopher Chance, he was good at everything... Everything? 'Yap, he was probably good at that too,' she mulled, his excruciating attention to detail was a good indicator of that. 'Don't go there Ilsa,' she told herself.

So much had changed between them since the plane crash. They were going to part ways before it happened. They had been at each other throats up until it finally occurred to her after Lopez threw the chemicals in Chance's eyes that even though they were fighting and having words, his only true concern, it was always constant and present, was protecting her and keeping her safe at all costs with no regard to his own safety. And that included preventing her from living with the "unpleasant" (her choice of word) experiencing of killing someone.

It was becoming increasingly clear the reason for there fighting was due to their denying and ignoring their feeling for each other. They both were feeling them but refused to acknowledge it and this often resulted in tension.

When Chance didn't act in a way the that would appease her growing need or desire, well, she would lash out in anger or try to impose some silly rules to distract herself from her disappointment. Much to the confusion of the rest of the team.

Chance on the other hand never lashed out on his unanswered needs. He would quietly retreat and turn inward; his 'I don't deserve it anyway' theory would kick in. If she only knew and understood his lack of appeasing her desire wasn't because he wasn't interested but rather because he would never assume to think he was even remotely deserving of any kind of loving human affection. He would just instinctively do the right thing. Bow out gracefully as they say. His only real reciprocation of her smoke and mirror, sometimes down right harsh words was during the plane wreck when he was just sick of it and felt the strong need to defend himself from her constant verbal attacks. Besides, they were going to part ways anyway, right?

Normally when she was sticking the knife in and turning it he just bite his tongue and walked away, most of her comments didn't warrant an explanation, again, he wasn't big on words. He would justify this reaction with reasoning, 'she didn't know who he really was, what he's been through', and he felt no need to explain. However, it had never dawned on him that she was lashing out because she was developing feelings for him and felt frustrated at, what seemed to her, his indifference.

"Ilsa, why don't you have a seat, I'll make you a drink." he moved towards her and put his hand on her waist and gently directed her towards the couch. She put up little resistance, if any. His hand felt strong on her back. She allowed herself to momentarily imagine the comfort she would feel in his arms, should she turn and let it just happen?

Touching her waist again excited him like a bolt of electricity, but he showed no outward sign of it, always cool. He could so easily just take her right now and he knew she'd be willing. How many times had that crossed his mind, even when, no...especially when she was getting cross at him. He would think, 'Just take her now, shut her up.' But now, as then, his calm demeanour gave no clues to his private thoughts.

She sat down on the couch and tried to relax. He walked over to a table to mix her a drink. She watched him walk, taking in every detail of his muscular back and studied his tattoo. She never thought she'd be into a man with a tattoo. But this one added to his intrigue, he just wouldn't be him without it. Somehow this tattoo encapsulated him, which was something because she couldn't imagine any_ one_ thing could accomplish that.

This tattoo had witnessed everything he'd been through. It knew the defining moment that caused him to turned to the "old man". It knew the drastic event that happened in his life that compelled him to even consider such a drastic choice in his profession. It was there for the good times and the bad, and, more importantly it was there with him for his transformation. It was like it was part of his soul.

He turned and walked back to her with a drink for her and himself. He handed her drink to her. She reached for it with both hands, like she didn't trust herself not to drop it. "I meant it too, you don't have to feel responsible for what happened, you did everything you could to prevent it and for that I'm grateful." She looked up at him as he stood over her. 'Are you kidding,' she thought, 'can't you put a shirt on so I can interact like a functioning adult?'

Back in the opera house she had told him she saved his life but the truth was he had saved hers! She had tired to save him but botched it up and he came to the rescue. If he hadn't of jumped up from under the water and grabbed that gunman's foot and pulled him to the ground knocking him out, she would be dead…..again.

He took a heavy sigh and turned away, like he didn't buy what she was saying, not from her point of view, but his own. He was the best at what he did and never failed. But this to him was a failure because he couldn't prevent her from having to live with this unfortunate incident. She was changed forever and she could never get a "take back" and that was his fault. He so wanted to intercept and prevent her from ever having to feel the loss of one's self that occurred when you took a life. Now his redemption took on yet another meaning or angle for him. He needed to help her through this, but he just wasn't sure how.

He walked over to the window and looked out.'What was he feeling,' she wondered. 'Does he feel? Has he ever loved?' Probably not the kind of love by her definition. She took a few sips of her drink, it made her feel sleepy, light headed.

Chance had now returned to the couch and sat down, Carmine separated them. But even still the electricity was buzzing even though they were not side by side.

He didn't really know what to say to her to ease the pain and confusion. When he and Maria were together in South America those 10 plus years ago, her biggest complaint about him was his vague use of words. But when you've lead the life he has, sharing feelings didn't come easily and letting anyone in came even harder.

Since he wasn't much on the word thing, maybe he should just be their physically for her and he didn't mean protection wise, he meant the "physical" act. He could ease those bad images and feelings from her head and fill them with good ones. He knew he was more then capable of getting her to forget everything about that awful night, actually he knew he could make her delirious, forgetting everything in the world during the intimate mission. But it wasn't the time, he reasoned with himself. Not yet. She made a soft groaning sound, threw her head back and ran her fingers through her hair, exposing every feminine curve of her neck down to her cleavage. Well, maybe, he reconsidered, it is the time.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three:

Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target in anyway, (wish I did so it wouldn't be cancelled) just having fun…

_**Authors note: Obviously this isn't an action story like the TV series. This is an in depth look into their personal thoughts and character. Reference to a few difference episodes, so spoiler alerts.**_

He rubbed Carmine's head and took a sip of his drink noticing Ilsa was settling down, getting very relaxed and comfortable. She's getting sleepy, he thought. "Ilsa, you can stay and sleep here tonight, you look too tired to go home." He glanced over at her and she turned her eyes away. "You can have my bed in my room, I never use it, I usually just crash on the couch anyway."

He was right, she was starting to calm down and get sleepy but as long as Chance remained shirtless it was going to be almost impossible to just completely let go and relax, never mind sleep.

"That's fine," she said, "I'm really ok to go home. I know I have your support and it does mean a lot and…."

Before she could finished Carmine jumped up and barked, his low bass, passive bark, but he meant business.

Chance closed his eye and let out a sigh of slight annoyance at being interrupted. "Ilsa, give me a sec," he put his hands on his knees and pushed himself off the couch, "I've got to take Carmine out one last time before he checks out for the nights." He looked down at her, "finish your drink and just relax." He walked over to a dresser and grabbed a t-shirt and started to pull it over his head.

Ilsa watched him discreetly and found herself disappointed yet relieved at the same time he was about to don a shirt.

She could tell from how he slowly and awkwardly pulled the shirt over his head and the way he slightly winced that he was hurting from all his body had undertook at the opera. But as usual not one audible complaint from him.

Carmine jumped down from his warm spot on the couch and eagerly waited for the cue from Chance to go.

She silently watched as Chance and Carmine descended down the stairs. She waited until she heard the elevator door close then leaned all the way back and let her shoulders round into the couch. She felt good here, it felt safe.

She rested her face against the shirt Chance had earlier tossed on the couch, his smell excited her but calmed her at the same time, it was the perfect mix of man and subtle cologne. Her thoughts swarmed her, Chance had done so much for her in the short period of time from when he saved her life as a client to now. Her well being came before even the simplest of common comforts for himself. She'd never met a man that put everyones needs ahead of his own to such a staggering degree. Again, it was affirmation, to her, he could give any superhero a run for their money.

There she was, still denying the real reason she was here.

Be honest Ilsa, she thought to herself, why are you here, now in Chance's living quarter? But she wasn't ready to be honest. There was still a part of her that felt like she was betraying Marshall, she was still wearing his ring after all. Was it time to take the ring off?

This was something she didn't want to think about right now. She just wanted to enjoy her tranquil moment. She pushed Marshall far back into her mind, something that was getting easier to do all the time and the guilt she felt for doing this was subsiding more each day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ / ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Temperature had dropped dramatically outside. It was a cool night for Autumn in San Francisco. Chance pushed his free hand down into his pocket while holding Carmine's leash with his other. He should have thrown on a sweatshirt instead. Dumb call.

He walked their usual route down the street towards Boeddeker park. Most people would be nervous in that park in the day time let alone at night, but of course, Chance wasn't most people.

The walk in the brisk air gave him time to try to process what had taken place upstairs a few moments ago, actually the entire evening. What was Ilsa's real reason for returning? Could it be possible she was actually developing something more then just a professional relationship with him? He shook his head, no way. Then again, Guerrero had pointed out he was terrible at reading women. Why was that anyway?

The breeze chilled Chance's entire body. There was a slight mist to the air. Chance welcomed the exhilarating feeling against his skin.

There was plenty of activity on the streets. The shady clubs were in full swing. A common occurrence in this area once the sun set. Chance and Carmine continued along without incident as they passed the many colourful, intoxicated characters loitering on the streets.

Many were regulars which had established a mutual respect between them and Chance. Some of them even felt safer when they recognized Chance out for his nightly walks, they felt secure and their demeanour would changed from disgraced hobo to confident and proud vagabond.

Chance was engrossed in deep thought and none of the buzz or distractions around him could shake him from his contemplating. While onlookers could see he had a lot on his mind, it was also obvious that a distracted Chance was still superior then the most alert and vigilante commoner.

He choose a well worn empty bench in the park and sat down and let Carmine sniff around the dimly lit area.

If he was so bad at reading women, whatever he _thought_ he was reading with Ilsa was probably wrong then too. His encounter with her while lost in the forest after the plane crash broke any confidence he had in ascertaining a woman's thought process, especially hers.

Was she just looking to a friend for support and comfort, someone to lean on during bad times or was there a deeper meaning to her appearing in his room unexpected and ambiguous.

The smell of the crisp, damp air and the cool mist did nothing to help clear his mind as hoped.

His head told him she was just looking for comfort.

But his gut was nagging at him that there was more to this. And he wasn't meaning just her intentions. There was something up with his as well.

Whatever it was he wasn't even willing to confront it yet or admit anything. Keep it bottled up, that was always his best defence, especially when woman were involved.

'Pull it together, Chance,' he told himself, 'you can't let this happen, she's just a woman.'

He had almost acted on his own feelings upstairs. His _own_ feelings? What were those? Act on what? He shook his head at the realization, 'where's your control?' he asked himself, 'get your focus back.'

He had to keep her at arms length. For her own safety. The list of women that have almost been hurt because of him, the _one_ women that had been hurt…it could never happen again, especially to Ilsa.

He could do this. He had no problem concealing his emotions. He had managed to avoid intimate relationship with women for a long time now and it wasn't because the opportunities hadn't been there.

Guerrero and especially Winston often had to intervene when Chance was hired to protect women. They almost always fell for him in some form or another. And it wasn't just the damsel in distress syndrome, which was often a natural reaction to someone protecting you when you are about to die, but rather it was Chance's charisma and charm, his manly abilities and his obvious good looks he was gifted with that induced them.

It wasn't always just the clients, it was pretty much ever female they came into contact with. How Winston got tired of it, the constant attention and flirting from all these woman. Chance in many ways seem oblivious to it or unaffected. Whether it was the flight attendant on their way to a job in a foreign country, the waitress at a restaurant, the cashier at a store, and on and on.

Sometimes even the female villains would become distracted from their mission because of him and their own corrupt judgement would be dulled. It sure kept Winston busy. Always reeling Chance in from his constant propositions. Some, Winston just let happen, why fight it, if the job was done.

After a few minutes of pondering Chance got up and he and Carmine turn back towards home. As they walked through the scandalous evening buzz of the Tenderloin, Chance had a new determination. Even though he wasn't sure where Ilsa stood in regards to him on a personal level he needed to make sure she didn't get hurt, in anyway, because of him or anyone else. People he cared about and got close to always got hurt.

This was his life curse, something he, as sad as it sounds, had accepted since he was a small child. So that meant he'd needed to be more diligent then ever.

He'd be there for Ilsa as promised, but he had to keep his personal feelings in check. Besides, he convinced himself, (again. really bad at reading chicks) there was no way she would be interested in him other than a protectant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ / ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ilsa was trying to decide if she should just leave while he was out with Carmine. She could just slip out and they could just continue on as normal. Or should she take a leap of faith and see where it got her? She did the latter, well not necessarily a leap of faith but….she stayed.

She took a few more sips of her drink, it burned on the way down, he'd made it strong. Her body wanted to relax and to drift into a peaceful sleep, she was getting tired of fighting it.

She replayed that evening at the Opera in her head. How did Chance know there would be trouble there? Once again showing himself to be above human.

He not only saved her but also a building full of innocent people. Not to mention he prevented the release of a dangerous terrorist back into society. All in a days work for Christopher Chance.

When she had made the comment to him on the plane before it crashed that there are _a thousand other thugs that could do what he did _she was telling probably one of the biggest lies of her life. No one could do what he did. No one could replace him. She knew that, no statement could be father from the truth. But she couldn't help herself from saying it because deep down she didn't want to part ways with him as they had agreed to moments earlier. So she panicked, she was desperate to get him stay, shake him up a bit. Of course now she totally regretted it.

Her eyes were heavy now, her mind wondered back to the Opera. She recalled standing there stunned just watching Chance like a deer caught in the headlight of an on coming car….why would she be stunned, so surprised? She knew what he did, how he succeeded under impossible odds. But it wasn't too often she witnessed it first hand.

On several occasions she would witness the "end" result of Chance returning after yet another successful mission, bruised, battered, soar and sometimes even bloody. But he always returned, mission accomplished.

She'd witnessed the chaos from Winston and Guerrero as they tried to find Chance, help Chance, keep up with the ever changing, unpredictable status of his assignments.

She seen the complete trust and faith the two men showed in every impossible situation Chance would find himself in. There wasn't anyone else they'd want in their corner.

Being there, watching him battle and assault several, obviously very violent men at once and win, hands down, heck it wasn't even close, gave her a chill down her spine. Even after everything she already knew about his effectiveness she was still in awe. It was something she just couldn't get use to. It was making her blood warm.

And all this attested to his abilities..…yet she was still astonished, it was simply remarkable to see it in person.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ / ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chance and Carmine immerged from the elevator. Carmine wasted no time heading back upstairs, Chance slowly lingered behind.

He was wondered if Ilsa would be gone. She had seemed somewhat unsure of her choice to come back that night. Maybe he shouldn't have left her alone. Carmine could have waited….no, actually he couldn't have. He would have just continued to interrupt them constantly had Chance tried to ignore his request.

It seems way too quiet up stairs. Either Ilsa was gone or…..Yap, as he turned the corner his second thought was confirmed. She had fallen asleep on his couch.

He stood their studying her. He could really allow himself to care for this woman. She looked so fragile, so innocent even though she had successfully managed to show an outward façade of strength.

Most men would have allowed their minds to go crazy and enter forbidden territory with such a beautiful woman lying vulnerable on their couch, not Chance. Mr. always do the right thing never allowed his mind to even go there, especially after his new found determination while walking Carmine. (keep her safe at all cost) which meant keeping his feelings and desires far from surfacing.

He smiled to himself and walked over to her. She had fallen asleep holding her drink, he slipped it gingerly from her grip. She was sitting upright with her head arched over slightly. He grabbed a near by pillow, threw in on the couch then delicately placed one hand against the side of her head and with the other hand on her shoulder gently lowered her down to a lying position on the couch, then slowly lifted her legs onto the couch, he couldn't help but notice how soft and smooth they were.

Stay focused!

He continue observing her for a moment more then reached down and tenderly brushed her hair away from her face with his fingers. 'I'll always keep you safe, at all cost, I promise' he swore to himself.

He turned and reached for a blanket covered her completely, once he was satisfied she would be comfortable and she would have a peaceful sleep he then took his guarding post in the big chair adjacent to the couch.

He'd remain close to her that night, to keep her safe, but not too close. Sleeping in a chair wasn't such a stretch or uncommon practice for him. He only really ever just rested his eyes anyway, which is what he did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ / ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: I do not own human Target or it's characters and intend no infringements!**

As the morning sun started to break through the window, Ilsa slowly started to stir and open her eyes.

What time was it? It couldn't be much past 5:00 am. She glanced over at the clock; 5:53. She'd spent the night on Chance's couch, last thing she remembered was Chance and Carmine going out. Now she was on a pillow and had a blanket snuggled around her.

She glanced around the room. Well, there was Carmine….but where was Chance? The room was completely void of any other human. Carmine was back, so at some point Chance must have returned as well and someone made her comfortable.

So then, where had he gone, where had he slept…his room? She doubted it. She couldn't see him retiring to him room and leaving her on the couch. His character wouldn't allow him to be more comfortable then her.

She looked over at the large leather chair, that's where he stayed, she decided.

She stretched and got up, gave Carmine a quick pat and walked over to the railing and glanced downstairs. Nope, no sign of him. She could tell he wasn't in the bathroom either.

She quickly ran downstairs and grabbed her purse and ran back up to the bathroom, feeling a great need to freshen up. She had always carried extra toiletries and toothbrushes in her purse, she liked having the options to freshen up at any point during a day.

She emerged from the washroom 10 minutes later and still found the premises quiet.

She slowly, cautiously made her way down the stairs. She found herself nervous but burning with anticipation, would they continue where they left off or would they pretend last night's emotion and obvious attraction didn't happen.

She'd soon find out. He would have to be back soon, it was too early in the morning for him to be doing something important.

She went into the kitchen and began to make a fresh pot of coffee.

She sat down at the kitchen table and rested her chin in her hands…. Her mind wondering.

Her thoughts were broken by the beep from the coffee pot indicating it was ready. She walked over and poured herself a cup. She sipped it slowly, allowing its smell and taste to awaken her sleepy senses. Just then she heard the elevator doors.

It had to be Chance. She felt her body tense up and she quickly and instinctively spruced up her hair.

She waited. Within moments Chance appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, He paused briefly and shyly smiled at her. Then while checking her out he confidentially put one hand up against the side door frame and the other on his hip.

He was wet again, this time with sweat but he looked just as good as when he came out off the shower last night. His shirt was on but it was wet and clinging to his body.

Oh, he had gone for a jog, she discerned.

He remained there, studying her saying nothing. She felt increasing self-conscious.

"I thought you said you didn't like jogging," she smiled back at him then turned away towards the cupboards.

"Ah, I was just making small talk," he walked up behind her, she could smell his fresh sweat, it peaked her senses even better then the coffee, "how did you sleep?" He reached for a coffee cup over her head.

Before he could pull it down from the cupboard Ilsa turned and handed him an already poured one. He stopped in mid action and stared into her eyes. He slowly lowered his arm, not removing his intense glare, they stood still. Finally breaking the stare he looked down at the cup she held out to him.

He methodically reached for the cup allowed his fingers to linger on her delicate hands as he accepted it. Was it deliberate or accidental, neither of them knew for sure.

Again his eyes met hers. They stood there for a few seconds that seemed more like minutes, finally, taking the cup he walked away.

Ilsa took a deep breath in. "I slept like a baby, the best sleep since, well, since that night" she followed him with her eyes as he walked around table and sat down. "Which is amazing considering I was sleeping on a couch." she nervously finished.

Chance raised his eyebrows at her, "it's a comfortable couch, though, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it is, I'll have to admit."

Chance smiled to her response and looked down at his cup.

"So is your sister-in-law gone now?" he said without looking up.

Ilsa had been studying him, it was getting increasingly harder to keep her composure around him. "Yes," she said walking over to the chair across from him. He's making small talk, again, she thought. "Her flight left last night," she finished as she took the seat.

Chance looked up, she looked good in the morning, he thought briefly allowed himself to slip. Stop, keep her at arms length, he reminded himself.

"Well, I'm going to run and have a shower," he quickly stood up, his chair scratching the floor loudly. "Thanks for the coffee," he held up the cup in a toasting, thanking manner and began to walk away, out of the kitchen.

Ilsa sat somewhat stunned, unable to respond. He wants to pretend last night didn't happen. That the connection between them wasn't there. Fine, she decided, she can be stubborn too!

But before he got too far he stopped. He stood there a few moments with his back to her, silently contemplating something.

Ilsa watched him anxiously, then finally turning he said, "Ilsa, I'm going to keep you safe, no matter what, you don't need to doubt that for a second." He intently walked back to her. Her heart began to race.

In one quick motion he put the cup down on the table and slid his hand under her arm and with great ease pulled her towards him.

His strength made it impossible to resist and his gentleness made her not _want_ to even try. Their bodies were so close, but not touching. They both felt the unmistakable energy.

Then he took both hands and held her head gently and looked directly into her eyes, "it's my number one priority."

It was her turn to pull away this time. Removing herself from his tender embrace she walked toward the sink.

"You are needed by others with real problems, real threatening situations, I can't allow my petty problems to prohibit you from helping those that really need it." She all of a sudden felt selfish for consuming his thoughts, being his priority. That's why they were here, in this business, to help others, not her.

What was with these two, couldn't they be on the same page at the same time.

"Ilsa, I'm not…." Chance began.

"No," Ilsa interrupted him and began to make a bee-line to the door of the kitchen.

Chance reading her all the way put his arm against the door frame to block her escape. She stopped in her tracks. Afraid to look up at him but slowly she did.

He put his other hand on her waist and slowly directed her back against the counter. "don't fight me….this." He had officially allowed himself to slip.

"What, fight what, I have no idea what you are talking about," she couldn't look him in the face. She stared down, to the side, the other side, anywhere but his face, anywhere but those eyes.

He wasn't touching her but placed both hands against the counter on either side of her body. She couldn't move. She was pinned.

Although she was very pleased this was happening she couldn't for whatever reason allow herself to just give in to it. Was it because she wanted this new uncertainty between them to last, to go slow, to enjoy this, his pursuit? Was she just being stubborn, or was it guilt over her feelings for Chance.

He wasn't giving in. He held his stance, waiting for her to finally meet his eyes, finally after putting up a fight, she did.

"Stop being so stubborn, you need to understand this!" He said sternly but tenderly.

He was still convincing himself he wasn't acting on anything other then his professional protection. But the reality was his guard was down, again. She kept breaking through his barrier.

Time stood still, they leaned towards each other, a little more, closer, eyes locked, heart pounding.

A ding went off indicating the arrival of the elevator. Someone was coming.

Ilsa and Chance pulled away from each other before they over committed, before they crossed a line they couldn't return from, before they got caught.

She broke through his strong arms that had her pinned against the counter, this time he allowed her to go. He was back, he had his focus again. That was close.

He stood their quietly without moving as she fled the room to greet their interrupter.

"Mrs Pucci," Winston greeted Ilsa as he briskly walked from the elevator to his office. Giving her a sideways glance added, "you look very nice today."

It was mean to be a slight sarcastic shot at her since, yes, he did notice her clothes were the same she had on last night when he left.

"Good morning, Mr Winston." She nervously watched him, did he notice?

Her back was towards the elevator so she did not notice a second person had accompanied Winston from the elevator, not until she heard the familiar noise of clicking heels towards her.

Can't be Ames, she didn't wear high heels.

Ilsa was frozen, hands cupped in front of her, hesitating to turn, but before she could turn around to greet the sound of the second guest, Winston returned from his office with a file in his hand and directed her attention behind her.

"Ilsa, I'd like you to meet District Attorney Allyson Russo. Chance saved her life about two years ago," Ilsa watch Winston's face and for whatever reason wasn't sure she wanted to turn around.

Of course it would appear insane if she didn't so she prepared herself and turned around.

There stood a striking blond woman with an air of confidence.

Ilsa studied her quickly and trying to appear casual but friendly, "Ilsa Pucci," she extended her hand to proceed with formalities.

The attractive blond accepted her hand, "nice to meet you, I was hoping to see…." before Allyson could finished they all turned towards the kitchen to see a fourth person enter the room.

An unexpected Chance walked into the open area. Stopped dead in his tracts!

All three stood silent and still and stared. Ilsa watch his reaction closely. Dear God, here we go, Ilsa said to herself as she rolled her eyes.

**_I'm not sure if I'll continue this story...there is more to it but the title doesn't really fit where it's going. I might continue it under a different story...not sure yet..._**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target or any of it's Characters….I intend no infringements. Just want it to live on.**_

Quickly, Chance regained his control, "Wow, Allyson," he said. "It's great to see you." While it was Allyson he was addressing he was actually cautiously observing Ilsa. Then finally adverting his eye towards Allyson added, "It's been awhile, how are things?" He broke into a full grin and moved towards her.

An unmistakable smile crossed Allyson's face. Ilsa recognized it immediately, I've seen that smile before, she thought stewing inwardly but remained pleasant and professional on the outside.

"Well, lets just say a lot has happened since you disappeared from the steps of the Court House after giving me my life back." Her eye's sparkled as she looked at Chance.

Winston stepped forward, "Immediately after you and Allyson shook up the entire San Francisco Police department and the District Attorney's office, Allyson was elected from Assistant DA to DA." He informed Chance with a proud grin.

Chance nodded to Winston, then to Allyson genuinely smiling, hands on his hips, "That's great! Congratulations!" Truth was Chance already knew that.

He'd seen the big announcement on TV two years back. And had admirably but quietly continued to watch her career unfold on the nightly news as she put one bad guy away after another.

"Thanks to you," she replied humbly, "if it hadn't been for you I wouldn't even be alive right now."

Ilsa was beginning to feel like she wasn't even in the room.

"Ah, it was nothing, don't mention it." Chance smiled back. He was never good at accepting thanks from clients. He was just doing his job.

There were a few moments of awkward silence as Ilsa and Winston began to feel like third wheels.

Chance recognized this quickly and addressed the silence. "Um, you already know Winston," he nodded toward him then looked at Ilsa, "Did you get a chance to meet…?"

Allyson nonchalantly nodded towards Ilsa barely acknowledging her presence, "Yes, Ilsa, right?" She finally pulled her eyes from Chance onto Ilsa, "I'm sorry," she continued slowly, uncertainly swaying a finger back and forth from Chance to Ilsa, "are you two….um…Are the two of you…..?"

Chance knew where the question was headed. He was at a loss for words. Was this how he and Ilsa came across? After last night he wasn't sure how to respond. He needed to answer cautiously. He knew Ilsa was in a delicate state.

But before he could Ilsa jumped forward, "Oh, gosh, no, no!" She waved her hand in front of her face shaking her head. "Don't be silly, our relationship is strictly professional." She shot an unemotional glance towards Chance who in returned raised his eyebrows and cocked his head at her. She continued, "I finance this company, Chance and I are merely partners." She managed to give Allyson a convincing fake smile.

Allyson seem relieved but confused, "I'm assuming you had something to do with the updated décor. When I was here last time it was definitely a man's den." The two woman shared a little chuckle. "How did this partnership come about?"

Chance noticed Ilsa straighten and become tense. "Um, ya know Allyson, it's a long story." Chance quickly changing the subject and taking her by the elbow and steering her toward the board room. "Why don't you tell us why you are here?"

Allyson stopped him, "Chance, if it would be ok, I'd like to talk to you alone?" She asked quietly.

When she had first come to Winston those two years ago for help her immediate reaction to Chance was doubtful and questioning. Why him, why was he the best, what made him so special?

She soon found out!

After watching him first hand save her life several time, against all odds, in a matter of hours, Chance was the only person she completely trusted and felt safe around.

Chance hesitated. He didn't want to ruffle Winston's feathers and especially Ilsa's.

Winston chimed in, "no problem Allyson." Then directly at Chance, "when she contacted me she just said she needs your help, here is her file from her last case, thought you'd might want to look it over."

Chance took the file and nodded an unspoken thanks.

Ilsa just smiled pleasantly at them both, "I'll be in my office if you need me." She spun on one heel and clicked toward her office, wouldn't want to interrupt you two, she thought sarcastically.

Chance watched her walk away. Was she ok, he thought?

Allyson studied Chance as he watched Ilsa walk away, she was sensing something more then just a professional relationship, she hoped she was wrong.

Ilsa on the other hand was wondering if this woman meant anything to Chance? Or was this just a client. Try not to read to much into it, Ilsa told herself. Just because a beautiful woman appears here first thing in the morning and can't stop smiling at Chance and asks to be alone with him doesn't mean anything…..who are you kidding, she thought and rolled her eyes.

She took a seat at her desk pretending to work and watched Chance and Allyson enter the board room. Upon directing Allyson to a chair Chance slid the board room door shut.

The echoing sound of the door shutting caused Ilsa to close her eyes. When she dared to open them again she watched Chance take a seat beside Allyson, close, facing each other, not across the table like with other clients. This one looked personal, more intimate.

Shaking the image from her head she looked down and tried to concentrate on some work. She couldn't help but feel that the small window for her and Chance to explore their feelings had just been closed.

Allyson took the seat Chance directed for her and watched him close the door and walk to the chair beside her, swirling it to face her he took it and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clenched together, giving her the feeling that she had his complete attention.

"Ok, you got me alone," he smiled teasingly trying to put her at ease. "Now why don't you tell me what's brought you here."

Chance had a thousand emotions running through his veins, none of them though could he discern.

He had tremendous admiration for Allyson. They had only spend a day together but in those intense hours she had revealed to him a strong, determined, honest and frankly impressive woman. Also, Allyson had opened up to him like she had never to any other person before.

As much as he was worried about Ilsa right now and her emotionally state he knew Allyson deserved this one on one attention

She leaned towards him, "I think someone is trying to kill me, again!" She whispered like this the most surprising thing she could say.

Chance sat back, raised his eyebrows, "Allyson, you are the District Attorney. It's probably a pretty safe bet there are a lot of people out there that would like to see you dead." He gave her a one sided smile.

Allyson was a bit taken back but couldn't resist responding to his smile with one of her own. He just had that effect.

"Seriously, Chance….really," She was still smiling as she said it. This wasn't a funny topic, why couldn't she stop smiling?

"OK," Chance held his hands out towards her, "Please explain." He scooted his chair closer to her still.

It felt good to see him and be close to him again. When he just disappeared that day she felt a big void, like they had unfinished business.

"Have you heard of CLAY?" She asked

"Sure, 'California Lawyer Attorneys of the Year'. It's an award …no, wait, you?" Chance eyes flashed with understanding.

"Yap, the one and only," She added proudly. "Only problem is someone wants me dead before I can accept it and I don't know if it's related or not." She looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Do you know this for certain?" Chance had a concerned tone to his voice. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Ilsa pace back and forth from her office to the kitchen a few times glancing curiously towards them.

Trying not to show his concern or interest in Ilsa's reaction to his private meeting, he stayed focused on Allyson. He always felt it was important to give the person he was talking to undivided attention no matter what the surrounding distractions might be; yet another clue to the type of man he was.

So he willed himself to stay focused on Allyson's eyes.

"Oh, yes, I do for certain, unfortunately there is no mistake here." Allyson's voice was shaky. "Yesterday there was a package for me shipped FedEx. But it never made it out of their warehouse" She paused and Chance listened intently.

She continued, with an obvious distress to her voice, "The procedure for U.S. Customs allows them to choose packages off the manifest, some random, others strategic, for exam. They open any package they decided to and determine if they are ok to be delivered are held for further scrutiny." Allyson hesitated, "They pulled my package for examine but didn't get to tape it back up." She was very emotional.

Chance waiting, tilted his head to the side and squinted his eyes.

"When they opened the package a highly sophisticated bomb, triggered by the opening, went off. It was meant to kill and it did, the Customs Inspector and the FedEx employee that was assisting him were both killed, instantly. Several others were injured and there was a lot of property damaged to the FedEx facility. It was clear this wasn't just a scare tactic or warning." Allyson sat very quietly looking down.

Chance leaned back in his chair. "There is no doubt this package was addressed to you?" Allyson nodded. "Do you know what type of bomb it was? Where the package came from? Obviously it was on an international flight or there wouldn't be a need for a Customs Inspectors."

"They are still trying to track it down. There seems to be some confusion, not surprising, the FBI is working on it. The bomb is being processed, not word on it yet, either." Allyson met Chance's eyes.

Chance studied her for a while. "Well," he finally said, "looks like you need some help." He gave her a reassuring smile.

Allyson felt better already. "I assume you handle business the same as before, ever though you have a new partner?" She tilted her head towards Ilsa.

"Um, yah, our technique is the same, we blend in, try to get the threat to reveal itself," He started to explain, somewhat confused. She knew the drill. Why ask this?

"You don't leave my side, until I'm safe, like before?" She added.

"Of course! Allyson, when you were in trouble before I told you then, I don't leave you until you are safe, not for a second, that goes for now too." He meant it, it's the same with any client, just because Allyson was beautiful and they had shared some pretty revealing truths about each other they never got to explore, doesn't make this any different.

Right?

His eye's glanced briefly toward Ilsa office. This did not go unnoticed by Allyson.

With a flirty grin in her eyes she added, "Good, the CLAY foundation is switching it up this year." She got up and walked around Chance so she was standing behind him, she place her hands on his strong shoulders and leaned down, close to his ear. "They are handing the awards out tomorrow, in Monaco, France."

**_There was a lot more going on behind the scene this year then was shown in the 13 episodes that aired. In the "Problem like Maria" EP Ilsa talked about how they have numerous law suites... there was way more cases then the 13 that aired...it's fun filling in the blanks and reading the other stories done by the great authors here filling in even more blanks!_**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

**Disclaimer: Still don't own anything of Human Target, including it's characters. I intend no infringements.**

_**So where this story has gone it really helps if you've seen episode "Run", Season one. There are a lot of reference to Run in this Chapter so spoiler alerts…but I'm pretty sure we've all seen it.**_

_20 Minutes later_:

The entire crew was called together in the conference room, well, almost all of them, Ilsa had quietly excused herself from the office. Lying to Winston that she remember she had something to do.

Chance had noticed her leave while he was still with Allyson in the conference room. Inside it drove him nuts but his hands were tied, he couldn't very well chase after her.

Being torn from Ilsa during a pivotal moment was just as hard on him as it was on her. He felt like he was left dangling from a cliff. Though looking at his stoic demeanour one couldn't tell. He was often accused of hiding his feeling but that didn't mean they weren't there.

Chance sat quietly his back partially turned away from the rest of the group towards the window, elbow resting on the edge of the table, fist holding up his chin.

Winston was going on about something…

"From this moment on she doesn't leave Chance's sight! Ames, is Allyson resting comfortably?" He asked.

"Ya, I showed her to the comfy couch in the employee lounge, she's having a restless nap," Ames responded chewing her gum, proud of herself like she'd done something real special.

"Ok, I've been going through Allyson's old file," Winston stood flipping through its pages, "And I've…."

"Um, excuse me," Ames raised her hand as if she were in 2nd grade. "I just wanted to remind you all I can't be involved in this new case, remember, I've planned a family reunion with Brody." She said like a difficult teenager.

Winston looked over his glasses at her in an annoyed manner.

"Ames, get out of here!" He growled at her.

She smiled and pushed herself off the chair and dashed for the exit.

Chance didn't even acknowledge that she left.

Guerrero just smirked into his take out container of Chinese leftovers, shovelling it into his mouth, without looking up.

"As I was saying," Winston continued, "There isn't much to go on in her case file. Her last case was pretty straight forward, no loose ends….." he trailed off, glanced at Chance, remembered how Chance had cleaned up the _loose end, _detective Wes Gibson, to make sure Allyson wouldn't have to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder for him, Chance didn't stir, Winston cleared his throat and continued._ "_We did however confirm the bomb and package." He tossed the file onto the large table. "It's all over the nightly news, although the police and FBI are being pretty tight lipped about it."

Chance briefly look at Winston then glanced at the file on the table then went back to staring out the window. It was raining now and the wind was blowing the drops hard against the window, making a pattering sound.

Winston continue despite his teams seeming disinterest. Chance was obviously somewhere else, Winston didn't even want to try to guess what that was about and Guerrero, feet on the table, was more interested in his noodles wrapped around his chop sticks.

After several minutes of Winston going over the plans and their cover (he felt by himself) the light on the elevator lit up and the ding went off, Chance immediate awoke from his thoughts and jumped with the intent to leave the room.

"Hey, Chance, have you even heard a word I said?" Winston watched Chance walk toward the door of the conference room hands in the air helplessly shaking his head.

Chance shrugged his shoulders, "I was half listening." He smile coyly at Winston and left the room.

Guerrero took his feet off the table and started to get up himself,

"It's better then not listening at all. Half listening for Chance is better then all of us put together full listening, don't sweat it, he's got it!" He handed Winston his empty food container and started to exit the conference room. "Dude, seriously, you should know this by now." He was gone.

Winston watched after him with a snarled lip and tossed the container into the trash wiping his hands, "Wiseass!"

Ilsa walked out of the elevator with her head down. Her usual confidence seemed missing.

Chance greeted her, hands in his pockets. "Where were you?" Was all he managed to say. He had rushed to her with the intent on making sure she was doing okay and now that he found himself standing in front of her he felt unprepared and had no idea what to actually say to her.

She looked up, her hair was slightly wet and small pieces were stuck to her face. She began to remove her coat and Chance instinctively reached to help her.

Guerrero walked by them, "it's wet out? Good to know." He caught the elevator before it closed.

"I had some errands to run. Didn't think it would matter. You seem busy and well taken care of." She said taking her coat from his hands, "thank you." Then meeting his eyes curiously and asked, "so, do we have a new case?" She folded her coat over her arms.

Winston strolled by them unnoticed toward the employee lounge.

Chance knew she was a bit disgruntled about his private meeting with Allyson. He knew they had unfinished emotional business lingering but unfortunately their professional business often got in the way and stopped all personal ones.

"Yes, Ilsa, she needs our help. She is in real danger." Chance watched her closely as he spoke slowly. "We Don't have a lot of time to prepare. This case is turning out to be very time sensative. Ilsa, we are going to need the jet. We have to leave for Monaco, tonight." No sooner had the words left his mouth and Chance desperately wished he could put them back in. Damn!

"_Monaco_!" Ilsa blurted, blinking her eyes shaking her head in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Chance was just about to make his best attempt to calm her and explain their predicament.

"Ilsa, lets go into your office." He began to steer her towards it. She shot him a harsh glare that made him remove his hand from her back immediately.

Did they just take two steps backwards in their relationship! She seemed cooler then ever. Less then a few hours ago they had almost kissed and now they seem farther away then ever.

Chance wanted to fix this fast, to regain the ground they'd lost since Allyson walked into their office. But he could tell his usual smile and charm wasn't going to cut it this time. Oh damn, was he going to have to use words?

She began to walk away, head held high and determined. Oh no you don't, not this time. He grabbed her arm and stopped her pulling her around and back. When she shot him that "look" again, he didn't budge this time, he kept holding on. "You're not walking away….." He had let go way too many times in the last 12 hours.

"Chance." Came a female voice behind him.

Chance rolled his eyes in frustration while still holding Ilsa arm. Seriously, these interruptions were starting to feel like a real bad joke.

Then he let go of Ilsa arm, but Ilsa remained.

Chance turn to meet Allyson. "Winston just briefed me. Looks like we are going on a trip." She smiled walking right up to him, arms folded in front of her not even glancing at Ilsa. "I'd feel a bit uncomfortable and nervous having to spend this time with a man in such close proximity I barely know, but hay, we aren't such strangers, after all, you did see me in my underwear." She smiled up at Chance, totally aware of what she was doing.

Ilsa eyes squinted to tiny slits, her nose twisted. "I've had quite enough." She turned and stomped towards her office.

Chance stared at Allyson with a look that read, _'you have the worst timing ever'_!

"Allyson, please, excuse me, make yourself at home." He gestured toward an inviting seating area.

Why did it always seem like Ilsa was walking away and he was chasing after her. Without waiting for a response from Allyson he took off to Ilsa leaving Allyson standing alone smirking.

He entered her office, slide the door shut, Ilsa didn't even bother to look up from her busy hands all over her keyboard. He raised his hands up in a defending stance. "Ilsa, it's not at all how it sounds."

She stopped typing and looked at him coldly. "How what sounds?" She looked down and began to type away again.

"How what sounds?" He repeated her words with a sneer, shaking his head. "Ilsa, I know you heard what Allyson said. It's not what you think!" He put his hands on his hips.

"Mr Chance," she was back to her more formal way of addressing him."What you do or do not do in your own time is your business." Then added quite disapprovingly, "and if that includes frolicking with your clients….well, there is nothing I can do about that." She stopped working and looked at him, daring him to say something.

"Frolicking?" Chance had to smile at her. He knew where this was coming from and why she was angry so he couldn't return the anger, she actually seemed irresistible to him right now. Her hair wet and messed, her eye make-up some what smudge under her eyes. Maybe he had read her wrong. Maybe she does care. She sure did seem jealous right now.

His mind wondered back to his childhood, or lack thereof, and for a flash moment wished he'd had a mother to explain this complicated, yet fascinating creature called woman!

She just continued to stare at him with a look of indifference.

"Ilsa," he moved around her desk and sat on the edge beside her. "She had a tracking device planted on her somewhere, we were being chased by every bad cop in the city." Ilsa shifted her body away from him and looked in the other direction of him as he spoke. "They were kill first, with no intent to ask questions later!"

Ilsa still wouldn't look at him.

He got up off the desk, grabbed her chair and spun it to face him. Leaned over and placed both hands on her arm rest but she still would not make eye contact, he slowly added, "the only way to find the tracking device was to eliminate the possibilities, one by one remove pieces of the equation. She was still being tracked after her phone was thrown away."

Chance briefly smiled on the inside at the memory of Allyson throwing her phone out of the car window instead of just removing it from herself.

"We had to go to the next step, removing her clothes to find the device." Chance said as innocently as he could looking at Ilsa sideways, was she warming up or was he making it worse?

She finally met his eyes, but still had a stubborn look in hers. "Really, the only way to find the device was for her to get nude for you, how convenient!" She now intensified her gaze.

"Nude? Na, not nude, she still had her underwear on. Look, Ilsa, she got into the back seat of the car. I was driving like a mad man trying to prevent some very aggressive cops from killing us."

Chance now straighten up, "it's not like I could see….….._much_." He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, he was now teasing her, lightening the mood. "Wait a minute…why do you care so much about this?" He was now smirking with his hands back on his hips.

Ilsa who had been observing him with an annoyed look on her face now immediately began to blush and turned away embarrassed.

Chance was still grinning at Ilsa, waiting for her to say something when Winston popped his head in, Chance and Ilsa turned to him. "Hey you two, whatever is going on here it'll have to wait." He banged his hand two times on the door frame, "we need to get the travel arrangements in place and get going." He swiftly walked away.

Chance turned back to a stunned Ilsa and gestured towards the conference room. "After you," he smiled.

She gave him a nasty but somewhat teasing look, she had a hard time staying mad at him, especially when he smiled like that, she put her hands on her desk and pushed herself up and purposely brushed her body against him as she went by.

Chance watched her leave allowing his eyes to linger on her figure, up and down and he then began to follow her….still smiling.

_**I've written Ames out of this story to keep it more about Chance and Ilsa, as it's main purpose is to examine their relationship and it's many complexities. Having too many characters clog this process up too much.**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target or any of it's Characters, I intend no infringements!**

_**Thanks to cedricsowner and niagaraweasel for giving me some much needed inspiration.**_

Chapter Seven:

They all began to congregate into the conference room. No one spoke, the only audible sound was the movement of the chairs turning and shifting as they took their respective seats, and Guerrero crunching his apple.

Ilsa sat down with a very obstinate attitude, her body language was like reading an open book, 'I'd rather have Guerrero torture me,' it read. Her legs and arms were crossed and her body was stiff and slightly turned away from the group.

Chance purposely choose the seat right across from her, this was going to be fun.

Allyson, not surprisingly, sat next to Chance.

Winston Stood at the head of the table.

Guerrero on his own.

"Our flight leaves in 1 hour, 26 minutes, so this needs to be quick." Winston spoke with determination. "I think most of us know our roles?" He looked at Chance over his glasses then to Ilsa, "Ilsa, how much time do you need to pack?" He put his glasses on top of his head, only needed them for reading.

"I beg your pardon!" Ilsa turned to the group, that got her attention, Chance had a devious grin on his face.

Chance was waiting for this, he might have only been half listening before but knew exactly what the plan was and where Winston was going with this and he knew how Ilsa was going to react.

Allyson sat confused but silent.

"What Winston is trying to say, Ilsa, is that we need you on this mission." Chance explained, watching her fidget. Oh yes, this was fun.

"_WHAT!_" Ilsa shook her head in disbelief.

"The award ceremony involves a big elegant evening. We need you to go under cover as, um, a waitress at the event." Winston choked back a chuckle.

They just needed eyes on the inside, she didn't need to actually do anything, they felt confident she could handle this.

"_What!" _Ilsa now was sitting straight and slapped her hands down on the table.

"We need someone on the inside that has freedom to move around unnoticed. I'll be working surveillance from the hotel suite, Guerrero will be busy doing what he does best," Winston rolled his eyes, "counter intelligence….stuff and backing up Chance if required. Chance, well, he'll be busy staying close to Allyson." Winston got serious, "Ilsa, we have nothing to go on, we are looking for a needle in a haystack here, we need your help."

"I'm sorry gentlemen," Ilsa protested standing up. "I have an important charity event to attend," she straighten her skirt, "and I have way too much paperwork to do, cleaning up the trail of messes and lawsuits you leave behind." She began to leave.

Chance leaned back in his chair, throwing an arm over the back of it and casually added, "Well, you were the one that approved Ames vacation time, it only seems fitting, now that we are short handed, that you fill in." Chance smiled glancing at the others around the table. She stopped dead in her tracks. "It's the least you could do." He tried to keep a serious face.

She angrily turned to Chance, "if you think for one second I'm going to be…." she shook her head in complete defiance, "….be a...a…...serve food!" She was so flustered, she couldn't even say it. "Well, you've just have had your head hit way too many times!" she now had a pleading look as her voice trailed off and softened.

The three main men in her life just all silently stared at her, each in their our characteristically relaxed state, all slightly smirking, yap, she coming.

"Hay, boss lady," Guerrero rationalize, "at least you'll get to wear a cute, smokin' hot uniform."

* * *

><p><em>12 Hours later:<em>

Ilsa walked into her luxurious room at the Hotel Hermitage beautifully overlooking the Mediterranean, took a deep breath and allowed herself to fall on her four poster bed and stare at the high ceiling and it's stunning chandeliers.

The flight over had been long and awkward. She had made a big scene in the conference room about going but the truth was she was actually glad to be coming along once the shock wore off. Of course there was no way she was going to give Chance and especially Allyson the satisfaction of knowing that.

She hated the idea of Chance being alone with Allyson, thousands of miles away.

Although, he was still alone with her, in _their_ room…..can't leave her side….at least she was in the same building. She had an uneasy feeling about Allyson and her intentions. She didn't doubt she was really in trouble, she did doubt her intentions in regards to Chance.

But what gave her any right to even have uneasy feelings about Chance and Allyson. Chance was a single man, free to do whatever he wanted.

Was it just her or did it seem like Allyson was doing everything in her power to make sure she didn't get a second alone with Chance.

Every time during the long flight if Chance made any kind of attempt to get near her, to have a private moment, Allyson was right there, demanding his attention. Did he notice this too? Probably not, he's a man, Ilsa thought.

For heaven sakes, they were on an airplane 35,000 feet in the air, she was safe, she didn't need to be within inches of him on the plane.

Ilsa ran her fingers through her hair and got up. I'm going to make myself a drink and have a long Jacuzzi, she consoled herself. She got up and walked over to the bar.

She took a deep breath, she felt relaxed being back in Europe. Marshall and her had spent so much time here it was like just another one of her many homes.

* * *

><p>Winston and Guerrero checked into their two bedroom suite next to Allyson and Chances and immediately began to set up the surveillance and spy equipment.<p>

Along with being one of the most exorbitant hotel in Monte Carlo, The Hermitage just so happened to be the venue that was hosting the award ceremony. It would make set-up and keeping eyes on Chance and Allyson a breeze.

Once that was accomplished they'd have a small nap to ease the jetlag.

* * *

><p>Chance opened the door to their room and instinctively looked around before allowing Allyson to enter.<p>

"Wow," she marvelled as she walked past Chance. "This is some room. Does this expense get put on my bill?" Said asked with a slight worried tone.

Chance closed the door and double locked it and put the chain on. "Don't worry about it, Ilsa's foundation pays for this." He walked past her and started checking all the rooms, closets and any other possible hiding places.

He wanted to get a feel for ever inch of the room. Then he walked over to the balcony, opened the huge, heavy, glamorous curtains and unlocked the door.

He stepped out onto the large balcony which was suited with it's own private Jacuzzi.

"Wow!" Allyson repeated herself as she stepped out behind Chance. He had been admiring the breath taking view of the sea.

He turned around and smiled. "It's something else, isn't it?"

He was wondering about Ilsa. She couldn't get a room next to them, not even on the same floor. She was on the top floor, they were two floors down, but the sizes of the floors were double that of a normal US building, this was a palace, which made the distance seem more like she was four floors away instead of just two.

Chance didn't want the top or bottom floor for Allyson, too vulnerable either way. The middle was the safest.

"Can I make you a drink?" Allyson asked going back inside.

"Sure," Chance accepted following her. He continue to familiarize himself with their suite as she began to make him a scotch on the rocks.

Chance began to go over a few things with her, "Allyson, we don't know how much the person trying to kill you knows about you. We don't really think this person would be desperate enough to follow you all the way across half the world." Chance walked up to her and took the drink she offered. "It takes a lot of planning to successfully pull off a murder of someone of your importance." As always in these situation his minds flashed, 'believe me I know', but he didn't share the thought with her.

He continued as she sat down on the elegant couch and sprawled her body to a comfortable position making herself at home. "So we don't think any attempt will be made here, but until the threat is revealed and eliminated we can't leave you alone." He finished and looked at her inquisitively, was she taking him serious?

"We? You mean _you_!" She got up and slowly strutted towards him. She was a beautiful woman, no questions about that. He knew this but when he saved her life the last time it had been such a whirl wind that he didn't have a quiet moment to even take her beauty in, not even when she was in her underwear.

He raised his eyebrows as he watched her close in on him. "Well we work as a team." He shrugged.

Normally he would have been all over this opportunity. How many times had he protected a beautiful, willing woman? And he was free to engage. And he could tell Allyson was willing. He might not be good at reading women's feelings or emotions but she sure was good at reading their physical intentions.

But now, for whatever reason, he felt a strong devotion to hold back.

When she reached him she took his drink from his hand seductively and placed it on the table beside him. She moved behind him, running her hand slowly up his arm to his shoulder around following the rest of her body to his back. She could feel his strong muscles permeating through his shirt.

She dropped her hand down and took his, giving it a squeeze. "I'm going to change and try out that fabulous Jacuzzi on the balcony. It was a long flight, the hot water will feel good, you should join me."

She turned and walked to the huge walk-in closet off the bathroom where their luggage was left by the bellman.

Chance stood there a few moments after she left. Then turned his head sharply towards his drink, picked it up and took a big swig.


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N: So there hasn't been an update on this story since July so I thought it was maybe time. I've been using my spare time to write my other HT story...which isn't finished either._**

**Thank you _Niagaraweasel_ for being so generous with your time and ideas.**

**Thank you _Cedricsowner_ for your great suggestions and your never ending support. **

**_Eseldie, _thank you! Your advice is wise beyond your years.**

**Chapter Eight**

Ten minutes later Allyson emerged from the bathroom dressed in a barely there black bikini. Chance was on the couch talking on the room phone with Winston.

"So everything is in place….." he trailed off as Allyson walked into his line of vision. His eyes traveled over her body from top to bottom. He tried to stay focused. "Has anyone checked on Ilsa?" he asked willing his eyes away from Allyson.

Upon hearing Ilsa's name Allyson inwardly rolled her eyes, walked over to the bar and started making herself another drink.

Once her back was to him, Chance allowed his eyes to return to her as he spoke. She was wearing heels with her bikini, was that for his benefit? They looked great, but out of place in the hotel room.

At the other end of the phone line Winston explained to Chance they had not checked on Ilsa and asked if he wanted them to.

"Um, yah, it might be better if you do, I don't think she is too thrilled with me right now. And hey, listen, it's what, almost 2:00 am here? I know it's about only 5 back home, but we should try to get some sleep or rest to adjust to the time here." Chance tried to sound all business. "Tomorrow is going to be a pretty full day."

Chance hung up, walked up behind Allyson and began to make himself another drink.

She turned and leaned against the bar with her drink in her hand. "You really should join me out there Chance," she said in a flirtatious tone.

Someone was trying to kill her yet she felt safe and secure, actually excited. The attempt on her life was the furthest thing from her mind. The one thing she did have on her mind though was getting Chance in the Jacuzzi with her.

She could tell Chance was about to reject her so she jumped in before he could reply. "It's been a long flight but it's early for us, the warmth of the water help relax us and make us sleepy. It'll be perfect to help us adjust to the new time zone." She began to walk to the balcony, "besides, you can't leave my side, remember."

Chance watched her strut away slowly, man was she working it and he knew it. He definitely didn't have this view when she had removed her clothes in the back seat of the car the first time he saved her life. But now he had all the time in the world to take in her perfect figure_. Come on get in the game, _he told himself, _why are you stalling_? _Just join her already. The water and heat would feel good and could promote sleep. _He finished making his drink and followed.

He stepped out onto the balcony just in time to see Allyson remove her heels and slowly step into the Jacuzzi. "Hmmm, this feels great." She leaned back as the water and bubbles dances around her breast.

"I didn't pack with swimming in mind, usually, we don't have time for such luxuries on a case," Chance took a sip of his drink as he took a relaxed position by the railing overlooking the beautiful Mediterranean Sea.

"Who says you need anything, I'll close my eyes," Allyson teased.

Chance just broke out into a grin and turned his head towards the salty sea.

Then he added, "Allyson, this is serious, I'm trying to save your life, I can't be distracted." Chance raised his eyebrows in an almost pleading manner as he looked back at her.

"You did a pretty good job saving me last time when you were distracted," Allyson reasoned. "I had my clothes off then too." Her eye had a mischievous flicker in them as her fingers played with the bubbles in the water.

"Ahh, but I asked you to put them back on _because _it was distracting, remember?" He took a sip of his drink and met her mischievous eyes with a tinge of mischief of his own. He was leaning on the railing with one arm and pulled his eyes away to glance down at the activities below.

Feeling somewhat rejected Allyson decided to try another angle. "So what's the deal with you and your partner?" She stressed the word partner somewhat mockingly.

Surprised by the questions, Chance turned back towards her. "What?"

"Elsa, what's the deal?" She tried to act nonchalant.

"Ilsa," Chance corrected her. "What do you mean?"

"Any fool can tell there is more going on between the two of you than just 'partners'." Allyson sounded like a jealous child on a play ground taunting the little boy.

Chance's eye widened in shock and denial. He was a bit caught off guard. "There isn't anything going on, you're seeing things." Shaking his head he completely turned his back to her and leaned on the railing with both arms. He took a deep breath of the salty air coming from the sea and let out an exaggerated sigh. Was he trying to convince Allyson of this or himself? He swirled the ice-cubes in his drink and took a big swig.

Allyson sat there and stewed, contemplating her next move. Then she promptly got up and marched up behind Chance.

Of course he heard her get out and walk up behind him but he wasn't expecting what came next. He turned around to say something to Allyson but instead found her lips on his and her wet body pressed up against his.

She wrapped her arms around his neck pulling her body up and closer. He found himself kissing back, placing a strong hand on her neck directing her into him more, increasing the intensity and passion.

Then he pulled back but only slightly but it was enough to make her stop.

Allyson moaned in frustration. "What is it, why are you holding back?" She tried to reach his lips again, but this time he turned away. "You said yourself there was nothing between you and Ilsa, was that a lie? Or is there someone else?" She questioned him angrily.

Chance thought about his relationship with Ilsa, the frustration that always seemed present between the two of them. The constant up and down, like the world's worst roller-coaster. He never quite knew which Ilsa he was going to see, the sweet tender one, or the angry stab-you-with-a-knife one. One minute they seemed to be getting closer and then the next they would be fighting like cats and dogs. Honestly, he had no idea what their relationship was. Ilsa herself stressed to Allyson is was strictly business.

He also thought about the danger he'd cause her by loving her, _loving her_? Where did that come from? Those words scared him; why did they pop into his head just now?

"No," he finally replied. His response was an attempt to actually convince himself that he was doing Ilsa a favor by turning to Allyson; that he was acting in her best interests. A relationship with her would only cause her pain.

With Allyson it seemed safe and fun because there was nothing emotionally invested. Neither was expecting anything from each other afterwards. It was not complicated, it was just two people, attracted to each other, turning to each other for pure pleasure. And why not?

She was still wet and her incredible curves were glistening. She took the drink from his hand, locked her eyes on his and seductively took a sip of his drink, never removing her gaze from him while she sipped. Then she put the glass down.

As she pressed against him her wet skin made his shirt damp.

She reached her hands under Chance's shirt and began pulling it up while running her hands up his stomach and chest until she completely pulled it off.

She stopped him as he leaned in for another kiss. He looked at her confused. She just wanted to take in his body for a few moments before the contact with his lips blocked her view. She smiled approvingly and he met her eager lips.

They most certainly had unfinished business. And Chance reminded himself he was a free man, no strings or commitments to anyone. His hands ran up and down her back. Chance pulled his lips away and grabbed a handful of her hair and gently tugged her head to the side as he continued his kisses up and down her neck. Her earlier moans of frustration were now moans of pleasure.

As they kissed Allyson slowly drew him back toward the Jacuzzi, tugging at his belt. She almost had him where she wanted him.

His mind was completely blank, the only thing in it was the here and now, and nothing was getting in his way.

Nothing?

_You don't have to face it alone. _His own words echoed in his head.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: So a lot has changed since I first began this story...over a year ago. Mostly my style of writing. There is a slight difference from chapter one to chaper nine. I've got a lot of support and help and suggestions along the way to improve the story from some great ladies: Niagaraweasel, Cedricsowner, and Scarlet Garter. All three of these ladies are amazingly talented and very giving of their time...as most already know from the great work they've done here in Human Target ff. I have the utmost respect for all three._

_Niagaraweasel is an amazing beta reader because not only is she great at catching mistakes she also has this amazing ability to take a rather boring paragraph and add some zing to it, thank you girl! This chapter would not be here if it wasn't for her...and not be nearly as good._

_Cedricsowner is _tireless_ in her great stories and it seems effortless to her, but she always has time for suggestions and helpful ideas and just all around great support. You are amazing and you are pure inspiration! _

_Scarlet Garter, I hope I've managed to apply some of her amazing critique as I've tried to grow since chapter one._

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement. <strong>

Chapter 9

From the moment she had laid eyes on the sunken jacuzzi, Allyson's only goal had been getting Chance in there with her. And now they were almost there…

She was banking on him just going with the flow. Moving backwards, drawing him with her, she stopped when she felt the rim of the tub behind her. Now all she needed to do was take one more step into the warm water and bring Chance with her.

Chance was smiling at her, but there was also a hint of hesitation in his eyes, while she gently tugged at his belt loops. For some reason he couldn't shake an uneasy feeling that had taken root in the back of his mind. It was strange…. Why should he resist a situation like this one: the damsel in distress a beautiful, willing woman… he couldn't ask for a better assignment. Usually. But despite the alluring picture Allyson presented, something just didn't feel right. His professional instinct was nagging at him, but why? They had confirmed that Allyson was definitely in real danger. He reasoned his instinct had to be off this time, probably he had his wires crossed because of the tension between him and Ilsa. Just this once he'd allow himself to dismiss his instinct, even though it was something he had trained himself never to do. He had to stay at Allyson's side at all times. Leaving the side of someone he had vowed to protect was a mistake he had only made once. Since Katherine's death he never let a client out of his sight.

"You realize I'm still wearing…". Before Chance could finish his sentence, Allyson lost her footing and began to fall backwards, dragging Chance with her. He immediately switched to protection mode, twisting around so that he'd hit the water first and she'd land safely on top of him.

For a moment, Allyson's weight completely pushed him under. When he surfaced again, sputtering, Allyson was giggling like a schoolgirl, since he was still half dressed and now completely soaked. He only gave her a sarcastic grin, as he pulled himself up onto the bench running around the inner rim of the tub. Allyson remained sitting on his legs and just wiggled with him.

Suddenly Chance became aware of a dull pain in the back of his head. He reached up to find the source of the pain and winced when his fingers came in contact with it.

Allyson's smile vanished and her eyes widened. " Oh God, Chance, you're hurt!"

"It's nothing. Probably hit my head when we fell." He pulled his hand away, glad to find no blood on his fingers.

"I'll get you an ice pack." Allyson slid off his lap and glided to the edge of the Jacuzzi, but stopped and turned back to Chance when she noticed his attempt to follow her. She placed a hand on his bare wet chest and with gentle force pushed him back down.

"Now that you're already wet you might as well stay in here with me and relax," she argued. "You probably shouldn't move too quickly just after banging your head, expecially in hot water." He narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing as he relaxed back down.

Once satisfied that he wouldn't leave, Allyson turned and stepped out of the tub. "Oh, and you might also want to remove the rest of your clothes, get more comfortable," she commented over her shoulder.

A few moments later she returned with a handful of ice cubes wrapped in a face cloth from the bathroom – just in time to see him toss his wet jeans, shoes and socks off to the side.

She smiled approvingly as she stepped back into the jacuzzi. She sat down beside him and gently pressed her makeshift ice pack against the back of his head, making sure to maintain as much skin contact as she possibly could. After all, every move she made was a strategic plan to seduce Chance. She was confident no red-blooded male would be able to resist.

"There, how does that feel?" she asked, gently brushing a strand of blond wet hair away from his face and looking deep into his eyes.

"Much better," he said with a grateful look in his eyes. "Thanks."

And it _was _nice to have soft, gentle, female hands take care of him instead of the usually rough and not exactly sympathetic hands of Guerrero, but admitting that to Allyson would probably not be a good idea right now.

Chance gave her a lopsided smile that made her shiver. For a few moments neither of them said anything. Allyson allowed her eyes to linger on his chest above the water. Her eyes became quite sad and she tilted her head in wonder. "So many scars….." she said softly, reaching out and tracing one particular scar that was half concealed in the light dusting of chest hair.

Chance didn't respond. He was feeling the relaxing effect of the heat and slid his body deeper into the tub, until only his shoulders remained above the water. The jacuzzi was positioned so that nothing obstructed the view of the stars and Chance silently stared into the night sky. Allyson had been right, the warmth of the water and the pressure from the underwater jets felt good on his body. He was still a little sore from the opera ordeal.

Allyson would never have thought that it would be so difficult to seduce Chance. She found herself becoming more than just a little annoyed. It had to be that Ilsa woman. Allyson had known that there was something there from the moment Chance had walked out of the kitchen back at the warehouse. _Partners my ass, _she thought. She rested her elbow on the side of the pool and her head on her hand, as she silently studied Chance as he stared up at the stars.

"You know, I was actually surprised to find you still alive," she finally broke the silence.

Her comment woke Chance from his thoughts and he turned his head to look at her questioningly. The evening air was cool compared to the temperature of the water, creating a thin cloud of steam that hovered over the pool.

"You seem to have no fear," she explained. "I watched you when you saved my life, recklessly throwing yourself into one dangerous situation after another without a second thought."

Chance just gave a little shrug and looked back at the stars.

Despite Chance's obvious disinterest in participating in the conversation Allyson went on. "When I met with Winston after you disappeared from the courthouse steps, I realized that what you did to protect me was simply all in a day's work for you. I've thought a lot about you over the last two years. Every so often there'd be a news story about some poor person miraculously saved from a dangerous, certain-death situation against all odds, often with a lot of collateral damage. Eye witnesses sometimes spoke of a mysterious blond hero that saved the day and disappeared before the police arrived. Every person that you saved knows that that mystery man is you." She bit her lip watching for his response.

There wasn't much of one. Chance just looked back at her again with a very subdued look. "Could have been someone else," he tried to deflect her comment. He wasn't really interested in talking about himself. What he really wanted to do was check on Ilsa, but he knew he shouldn't leave Allyson's side. And he didn't want to check on Ilsa with Allyson in tow, there was enough tension between them already. So he stayed put.

Allyson let out a sigh. When she had suggested that the heat of the jacuzzi would help them relax, she hadn't meant for Chance to lose all interest in her. Every once in a while he'd close his eyes for a few moments. She was worried he'd actually fall asleep on her. Obviously a highly trained ex-assassin-turned-bodyguard wasn't your everyday red-blooded male.

Maybe he should finish his drink. Allyson slowly began to glide over to the edge of the tub. Her unexpected movement made Chance open his eyes. He turned his head and watched her as she stepped out of the tub and walked over to the railing where they had left their drinks. She picked them up and came back into the tub, handing Chance his drink. He immediately began to sip it.

Allyson snuggled close beside him and he instinctively moved his arm and put it around her shoulders. _That's much better_, she thought. They sat silently for a few minutes enjoying the warm water, the stars and their drinks. Being held in Chance's arms made Allyson's heart race. His strength mixed with a perfect amount of tenderness made her feel safe and secure. She was not about to give that up again.

"Nothing good ever comes from office romances. You know that, right?"

"I beg your pardon?" Allyson's words once again pulled Chance from his thoughts, thoughts that were actually a few floors above them. _Not this again_, Chance thought as he let out a heavy sigh and removed his arms from around her. He did not want to talk about Ilsa! Period!

Chance downed the rest of his drink and moved to get out of the tub. "Allyson, I think we'd better try to get a few hours sleep. I'm going to take a shower. You need to come inside and lock the door." He stepped out of the tub, leaving a stunned Allyson behind. When she didn't follow, he turned around again. "You don't have to be afraid; I'll keep the bathroom door open ,so I can still hear you. You won't really be alone. I'll be quick and I promise you'll be safe."

Allyson felt like his blue eyes pierced right through her. She was getting angry and the emotion was starting to show on her face. Could he really be that clueless? It wasn't fear that was making her hesitate. But then Chance gave her a little grin, before he turned and walked inside. So he probably had a very good clue, he might just be getting a little better at reading women…

Allyson slapped her hands on the water in frustration and grudgingly left the tub to follow Chance inside, locking the balcony door behind her.

* * *

><p>Ilsa couldn't shake the strange feeling she had; almost like she was being watched. Ridiculous…. She brushed the feeling off as she closed the door of her hotel room after tipping the staff that brought her an expensive merlot.<p>

She walked over to the open patio door, the silk of her nightgown flowing in the evening air. _What a beautiful night_, she thought as she stepped out onto the balcony with a breathtaking view of the harbor.

She slowly sipped her wine, leaning on the balcony railing and letting the soft breeze from the see kiss her skin. She was deep in thought, her mind going in several directions at once and her emotions in turmoil. She desperately tried to keep her mind off what might be happening a few floors down in Chance's room with Allyson. It was pretty much an impossible feat though. She was pretty sure she knew what Allyson's intentions were as far as Chance was concerned. And a part of her couldn't really blame Allyson. It was her own fault; how many times had she pushed Chance away….

She shook her head and took a big sip of her wine, before she turned and went back into her room, closing and locking the door behind her. She pulled the drapes and walked over to her bathroom. But something made her stop in mid-stride. She froze on the spot, unsure if she wanted to turn around. Finally she half-heartedly glanced over her shoulder, smiling to herself when she saw nothing out of the ordinary. _It's all in your mind_, she told herself and continued to the bathroom.

Outside, a dark shadow moved cautiously and quickly across her window.


End file.
